Anthem's Book Of Fragments
by The Assassins Anthem
Summary: A challenge is not a bet or a defiance or a declaration of a choice. A challenge is something you accept, knowing you will fail. A challenge is something you do, knowing completion is miles away. A challenge is something you rise up to and conquer for the sake of yourself. A challenge is something you win, and I plan to do just that.
1. Sightless (WingClan Challenge)

Jayfeather could not see. Cats no longer pitied him in his presence, but he remembered those times, and knew they still did it secretly. Did the clans understand the fact he had never seen a flower? Did they know he had no clue what the color 'blue' was? Did they even consider the fact he could not even imagine what another _cat_ looked like? They pitted him because he couldn't see, but because he had been blind since birth, there was nothing to be sorry for. And after they'd given him their condolences, they wondered why he was so bitter.

* * *

><p><strong>:: An ::**

_So, yeah, I realize there are some things wrong with this, namely the fact Jayfeather knows colors, and flowers, and cats look like thanks to dreams/Jay's Wing incedent/visions. You get the idea. The point I was trying to make wasn't that, though. It was that so many times people who are 'normal' pity people who aren't for stupid reasons like, 'oh, you can't see _[insert noun here]_' But all they're really doing is making matters worse because people blind from birth have never seen [insert noun here], so they aren't sad, and neither should 'normal' people be._

_I don't know if that made any sense, but. . .yeah. ^.^ Also, writing EXACTLY 100 words is nearly impossible. O.O_

|O| The Assassin's Anthem, may darkness be with you.


	2. Can We Know? :: Part 1 :: The Innocent

"Don't move, or I will claw your ears off of your head!"

Selkia stared at the cats in shock. How could she have gotten into such a mess? She had just been wandering the nearby forest line, easily avoiding trouble with feral cats and then _bamb! _She found a dead cat just lying in the middle of a clearing. To make things worse, that's exactly when the feral cats decided to show up.

And her day didn't seem to be getting any better.

"Look, I didn't do anything, I just found him—"

"Silence!" the larger cat hissed. Selkia shut her mouth, but glared at the tom. "You have been found next to the dead body of our warrior_."_

"I told you, I didn't—"

"You are only pleading innocent like every other guilty cat in this forest," spat a she-cat from behind the first tom.

"What shall we do with her?" asked a different tom, this one with an indifferent voice. Selkia glanced over to him and, from what she could see in the dim light of dawn, she saw a silky black tom with icy blue eyes. He was leanly built with a shorter tail than average.

"I am not certain, Nightheart," the first tom, a gray tabby, said. "While I believe it would save time to simply chase her away, she _did _just murder Whitefire. The clan should make the ultimate decision together. Besides, Adderstar will want to see her."

"So are we bringing her to camp?" the black tom, Nightheart, asked.

"Indeed," said the tabby.

"Of course, because _everyone_ deserves mercy," hissed the white she-cat with her tail lashing. "Things would be a lot more efficient if I were in charge."

"And a lot bloodier, I assume," Nightheart sighed. He acted as if he were bored. "Stormstripe is deputy for a reason, Snowfeather." The white she-cat glared at the black tom, but nothing more was said once she caught the gaze of the gray tabby.

"Stay behind her," the tabby told Nightheart.

"As you say, Stormstripe," Nightheart said with a respectful dip of the head.

"Snowfeather, if you could take Whitefire's body. . ." Stormstripe said as he strode forward. Snowfeather sighed heavily, but did as she was ordered.

"If I were you, I'd follow him," Nightheart said.

"Well, you aren't me," Selkia snapped. Despite this, she began walking in the pawsteps of the other tom. Nightheart, just as he was ordered, was right on her tail.

The only sound heard then was the body being pulled through twigs and crusty leaves. That and the stomping of Selkia, who refused to allow complete quietness to rule.

"You know, those leaves didn't do anything to deserve your rampage," Nightheart spoke.

"No, but you did, and considering this is your forest, I think they deserve it quite a bit," Selkia snapped.

"What have _I _done that could possible cause this fury?" Nightheart asked with his nonchalant voice which made Selkia cringe.

"You're forcing me to go deeper into this retched land just because I was found by the body," Selkia growled.

"I don't believe we need any more evidence to prove it was you," Nightheart said. "In any case, Adderstar doesn't allow execution, so you'll probably just be forced as a prisoner or something."

"A punishment I still don't deserve," Selkia scoffed as she continued walking.

"And how are we supposed to prove that?" Nightheart asked.

"Me just being here shouldn't have proved anything," Selkia growled. "More evidence can be found, like who's scent was on the body—"

"Yours, you mean?" Nightheart asked. "Even if you didn't commit the crime, you were near him enough that any scent that could have been on him is now gone."

"Do I appear like I would kill anyone I didn't know? I'm a loner, for goodness sake, not some rogue looking for trouble!" Selkia claimed.

"A lot of guilty cats look innocent from their appearance," Nightheart told her. "Besides, we are only doing what we think is best."

"Well, you don't think much then, do you?" Selkia asked.

"That has to be one of the most cliché comebacks I have ever heard," Nightheart said.

"You seem pretty chipper for someone who's just witness the death of a loved one," Selkia snapped.

"I didn't know Whitefire all that well," Nightheart said with a shrug. "And death isn't all that new to me."

"Oh, so now you're mocking my sense of—"

"Silence," came Stormstripe's voice. "We are coming to the camp now."

Selkia sniffed inward and nearly choked on the amount of cats she could smell. She hadn't scented so many of her own kind in one place since her last home, and that was saying something. She walked forward stiffly and cautiously as they walked into what they called their camp.

Cats were everywhere.

Kits played with the Queens near a bramble den, and adult cats sat with each other sharing a piece of prey. Two younger she-cats chatted together as they strolled toward another den, and upon the ledge, there was a small brown tom sitting there with maturity in his eyes.

Cats began to stop what they were doing, gazing toward the incoming group of cats. Selkia paused, but then she continued forward with her head down.

Soon after, she head a white she-cat cry out, "Whitefire! No!"

They moved forward toward the ledge upon which the brown tom sat. Then Stormstripe stopped, and Nightheart came from behind Selkia and sat in the spot next to her. Her silver tabby fur bristled as she noticed more cats begin to glare at her from Whitefire's body. Some cried, some froze in shock, and others turned to Selkia in complete fury.

"All cat's old enough old enough to catch their own prey, gather here beneath the high ledge!" the small brown tom shouted. After this announcement, the young kits seemed to disappear with their mothers, and the few cats not near the ledge came forward and followed what seemed to be their leader's order.

"Stormstripe, please explain this," the leader told the gray tom beside Selkia.

"I was on patrol with Snowfeather and Nightheart when I found Whitefire's body," Stormstripe reported. "This loner was over his body when it happened."

Shocked gasps rippled through the crowd. Selkia's tail lashed at every single one of them.

"She deserves punishment!" a cat in the crowd demanded. Other voices rose in agreement, forcing the tom on the ledge to stiffen.

"Enough," the leader growled, and the crowd was silent. "Speak, loner. What do you say in your defense?"

Selkia sighed. "I was just walking near the border as I always do. That's it. Then I heard a noise, and I scented the blood. I went to see what had happened, and I—"

"Lies!" screeched a she-cat standing over the white tom's body. "You must see them, Adderstar! This she-cat is lying!"

"I'm not!" Selkia exclaimed to the she-cat with narrowed eyes.

"Why would you go toward a bloody conflict which you knew was not your own?" the small brown tom, Adderstar, asked.

Selkia raised her gaze to him and said, "I'm a healer. There was a cat bleeding, and I wanted to help."

"A healer?" Adderstar asked. "Similar to our medicine cat, perhaps? Do you use herbs on injured warriors?"

_Medicine cat? _Selkia wondered. _What strange titles and names these cats have! _

"Yes," Selkia answered. "That is what I do."

"Your alibi sounds reasonable. . ." Adderstar noted. "If you were from another clan, I would not even question your motives, but since you are not, I am uncertain. . ."

"She could still be tricking you," came Stormstripe's voice. "Be wary of that, if you will, Adderstar."

Adderstar's intense yellow eyes continued to stare at her, and Selkia stared straight back. For a long time, it was only that. Silence.

"Because I cannot know for certain whether you are innocent or not, I cannot give you freedom," came Adderstar's voice. "However, this also means I cannot give you punishment. So I shall compromise. You will be forced to stay here, as our prisoner, until I know for certain you are either guilty or free of the crime. I will judge this, and no one else shall."

"That could take moons!" the white she-cat, presumably Whitefire's mate, shouted. "You would be allowing a murderer to live!"

"Or an innocent to be trapped," Nightheart spoke. Selkia shot him a glance, and he only gave a kind smile. Why did he suddenly wish to _help_ her?

"I understand, and I will speak to StarClan tonight," Adderstar told his clan. "If they wish for the answer to come to me sooner, they shall give it to me. Should they desire for me not to know, than it is destiny that this she-cat stay here."

No one spoke.

_Is StarClan the main clan? _Selkia thought to herself. _Is that why they are not going to question their judgment? Well, great. It looks like I'm going to be here for a while._

"Nightheart, you will be responsible for her," Adderstar announced. "And, as every warrior must provide for the clan, this she-cat will help Grayleaf. If there are any disagreements upon this decision, you are to speak to me privately in my den."

With this, Adderstar stood and turned around to what Selkia assumed was his den. Around her, cats began to slowly move away, speaking quietly to each other. None of them, however, seemed happy for her to be around.

"Well, I guess this means I'm supposed to show you around," Nightheart told her. "Are you ready?"

"Do I even get a choice?" Selkia spat. But she stood, and Nightheart started forward.

They went to a den made of bramble, twigs, and spider webs. Inside, Selkia heard little breaths and suckling, and she scented young cats.

"This is the nursery," Nightheart told her. "All Queens kit here, and for six moons, they stay with their young until they are old enough to become apprentices."

As he finished, a kit looking to be about four moons old scrambled out of the den and ran straight into her. Selkia, startled, jumped back with her claws unsheathed and her fur bristled. Nightheart began laughing lightly as she realized what was happening.

"Bluekit, come back here this—"

The ginger she-cat gasped and stared wide-eyed at Selkia. She immediately surged forward and stood over her kit with narrowed eyes and bared teeth.

"Get away from my kit, you murderer!" the she-cat hissed.

"I wasn't—"

"Firepelt, calm down!" Nightheart ordered, placing himself between Selkia and the Queen. "I was showing her around. Your kit simply stumbled into her, that's all." Firepelt's tail lashed.

"Keep her away from my kits," the ginger she-cat told him. "Adderstar may think she's innocent, but I don't." She turned to face her kit. "Come, Bluekit." She went back into the nursery with the kit jumping after her.

"I'm sorry about that," Nightheart told Selkia as he turned around. "It seems not everyone has agreed with Adderstar's terms."

"It seems so," Selkia muttered. "Can we move on? Maybe I can meet someone who doesn't want to claw my pelt off." Nightheart gave a bleak smile, and continued.

They went to a large tree with a hallowed trunk. Inside were many moss nests which smelled occupied. The nests were small as well; a full grown cat could not have fit in them.

"This is the den for the apprentices," Nightheart explained. "Kits six moons and older stay here as they train. Once their mentors believe they are ready, they become warriors."

He walked forward a few paw steps and stopped as they came to a cliff. There was a hole in the cliff which seemed to be another den full of nests. These moss beds were much bigger than the ones in the apprentices' den.

"This is the warriors den. A majority of the cats you see around you sleep here, although Adderstar and Grayleaf have their own dens." Nightheart chuckled. "A bit complicating, but you get the idea."

"Is Grayleaf your healer?" Selkia asked as Nightheart began walking.

"Our medicine cat, yes," Nightheart answered. "She's old enough to need an apprentice, and I think Bluekit, the one that just ran into you, will be the one. The little tom is always speaking of herbs and such."

"You have very strange names," Selkia said out loud.

"It's a system the clans have used since the beginning," Nightheart told her. "When you are born, you are a kit. When you are an apprentice, the kit part of it is changed to paw. And when you are a warrior, you are granted your unique name, the name which will follow you to StarClan should certain circumstances allow it. Some never make it that far."

"What is this StarClan place?" Selkia asked. "Is it another clan, or is it a territory?"

"Neither," Nightheart said with a warm smile. "They are our ancestors, the warriors which lived before us. When we die, we become a star in the Silverpelt, and then we join StarClan. After that, we guide our descendants with prophecies and warnings."

"Oh, so they are only a religion," Selkia said. "You only _believe_ this."

"It's real," Nightheart insisted. "Grayleaf speaks to them every half moon, and they share dreams to those who need them."

"Don't be disappointed if I don't believe you," Selkia told him, looking at the ground. "I've been told other myths and beliefs before, and none of them have been true."

He averted his eyes with a frown on his face.

He stopped near another cliff den and said, "This is Grayleaf's den, the medicine cat den. If a warrior is sick or injured, they come here to be healed. Seeing as Adderstar has requested that you help her, I would suggest you go in to meet her. I'll be right out here."

Selkia hesitated.

"What if she attacks me like that Queen?"

Nightheart chuckled once more. "Grayleaf isn't like that. She's a medicine cat, for StarClan's sake! And even if she _was_ like that, you look more adept at fighting than she is." Selkia gave him a wary look, but then went into the den.

The smell of herbs came to her nose, and she recoiled. Selkia could name every scent that came to her nose, and she frowned at such realization. This was going to be a long few moons.

"You must be that she-cat they all think killed Whitefire," came a new voice. Selkia's gaze snapped over to the dark gray tabby, who laughed slightly. "Oh, don't worry, young one. You may be wanted dead by the rest of PineClan, but I don't want to harm you."

"You don't?" Selkia asked.

"Of course not," Grayleaf said. "They're always jumpin' to conclusions because of how strong they are. But I ain't no fighter like the rest of them. At any chance, they use their claws! Silly, really, but I'm a medicine cat, not an ambassador. I just heal all the messes they get into."

"So you're Grayleaf, aren't you?" Selkia asked.

"Sure am," Grayleaf said. "And you're that she-cat. Say, what's your name, anyway?"

"Selkia," she answered.

"That's a strange name," Grayleaf said. "Never mind that—how much healing do you know?"

"I could name all of the herbs in your stock," Selkia told her. "And I could heal anything you asked me to."

"Good!" Grayleaf exclaimed. "I was beginning to think you only lied when you said you could heal."

"Why?" Selkia asked.

"Oh, well, looking at you close I can see you've had your fair share of fights," Grayleaf said matter-of-factly. "Ain't no medicine cats around these parts that ever partake in a battle, if they can help it. It's against the medicine cat code, after all."

"Do you want me to do something, or. . ." Selkia began.

"It's a bit quiet now, so you could just grab some fresh-kill if you like and come back in here," Grayleaf told her. "Once that sunhigh patrol gets back, though, you may want to liven up. Who knows what scrimmages OakClan have been trying to get into now!"

Selkia nodded absently, but instead of gathering fresh-kill, she simply laid down in a nest and closed her eyes. There was no way she was going outside of that den without anyone to protect her, for she was certain Nightheart had not bothered to wait so long for her.

And so she slept.

* * *

><p>Selkia woke the next morning and gave a long sigh. Once the patrol had come home, there had indeed been wounds to heal. Having no idea who she was, the warriors didn't give her a second glance after Grayleaf told them Adderstar would fill them in on the details.<p>

After that, Selkia went back to sleep again, having nothing better to do. And here she was, awake just as the sun was beginning to rise. She stood up, and walked out of the medicine cat den and into the clearing of the camp.

Selkia searched the camp for anyone, but no one seemed to be awake. So she quietly went to the fresh-kill pile and picked up a squirrel from the top.

Just as she turned around, the prey was ripped from her mouth. As she looked for who it was, she saw the white she-cat from before glaring at her. The she-cat set the prey down and gave a loud growl.

"You don't deserve this prey," the she-cat spat. Her claws unsheathed. "You don't deserve your life!"

"Enough, Cloudfur." Selkia jumped around to see Nightheart, who strode up to her slowly. "She has done nothing wrong, as far as you know."

"That's because you are all fooled by her lies!" Cloudfur snapped. "I thought you would know better, but I guess you're just another mouse-brain. Your parents would be disappointed!" Nightheart winced, but Cloudfur did not go any further. She took her prey and walked far away.

Selka turned to face him.

"What is her _problem_?" Selkia asked.

"Her mate was killed, and she is searching for someone to blame," Nightheart said. He was frowning.

"What did she mean when she said your parents would be disappointed?" Selkia asked.

"It's nothing important," Nightheart told her with a bleak smile. "Would you like to share a squirrel with me?" Selkia shrugged.

"It seems I'm not getting food any other way," Selkia said. Nightheart chuckled, and his warm smile reappeared. He turned, padded to the fresh-kill pile, and snagged another squirrel. Then, he came back over to her.

"Shall we?" he asked with a ridiculous grin on his face. Selkia rolled her eyes, but laid down and began eating. Having not had a meal since the previous morning, she was quite hungry.

For the longest time, they just ate in silence, watching others wake from their nests drowsily. Selkia noticed after a little while Stormstripe with Adderstar, speaking of things quietly. Then the gray tabby tom began calling other cats to him, sending them on patrols.

"This place seems well organized," Selkia noted.

"Everyone has a job," Nightheart responded. "They do their part to uphold the clan."

"These cats are more honorable than the ones which I used to live with," Selkia told him. "If this system was set up there, it wouldn't last a day."

"Did you live in the city, then?" Nightheart asked.

Selkia nodded. "They weren't very civilized, but I survived, and that's all that mattered."

"What of your family?" Nightheart asked. "Were they with you?"

"That's nothing important," Selkia told him. He sighed.

"You're a sharp little she-cat, aren't you?" he asked.

"Little?" Selkia asked. "I'm taller than you!"

Nightheart chuckled. "It seems you are."

"Selkia!" called Grayleaf from her den. "Those meddling kits got into my store of herbs again, and I need someone to help me sort them!" Selkia sighed.

"Well, I'll see you later," she told Nightheart.

"I will be around camp, if you need me," he said. "Stormstripe isn't letting me leave."

"Oh, boo hoo," Selkia teased with a flick of her tail. After a quick smile, she trotted back to the medicine cat den.

For the rest of the day, that's how it was. She and Grayleaf spoke while they separated the bundle of herbs, and Selkia held almost nothing back. What was the point? She was innocent, and Grayleaf seemed to guess it when she lied anyway.

"Do you have family?" Selkia asked.

"Adderstar," Grayleaf told her. "He's my brother, and it's a good thing, too. If I wasn't around, he'd have died before he'd become a warrior!" Selkia smiled.

"So he fought often, then," Selkia assumed.

"Almost every day," Grayleaf responded. "That was back when OakClan wanted our territory. Fought pretty hard for it, too. Those battles lasted a few moons, if I remember right. But that was moons ago."

"Hey wait a minute," Selkia said. "If you and Adderstar are siblings . . . are you from an earlier litter?"

"Nope," Grayleaf spoke. "He and I grew up together, just the two of us."

"But he's so much younger!" Selkia exclaimed.

"Well of course he is!" Grayleaf said. "He's got nine lives! It's not like he can get old like me—that only happens when he's on his last life, and he's nowhere close!"

"Nine lives? That's impossible," Selkia stated.

"No it ain't—StarClan gives him is nine lives, and he gets to be leader," Grayleaf told her. "There ain't nothing impossible about that."

"You're taking about a supernatural force that doesn't exist," Selkia sighed. "I was hoping you didn't believe it, but—"

"You don't?" Grayleaf asked. "Oh, well, we may have to fix that. I wonder if you could come to the Moonpool with me in a few sunrises? At the moment, you _are _one of PineClan's medicine cats. . .Huh. I'll have to speak to Adderstar about that."

"You feral cats are so strange," Selkia told Grayleaf. "With all of these names, these fights for simple territory, and your religion. . .it's so silly!"

"Well, even if you don't believe in StarClan, you gotta believe in _something," _Grayleaf said.

"Believing something just makes you a fool," Selkia told the elder she-cat. "I was born from my mother and father, and when I die, I die."

"And where's the fun in that?" Grayleaf asked. "Haven't you ever imagined a better life waiting for you on the other side?" Selkia's eyes narrowed.

"A place where my parents are waiting for me?" she asked sharply. "No. And I don't plan to."

"Oh, you don't have to get all mad at me," Grayleaf told her. "I ain't trying to start no trouble. I was just saying—"

"Invasion!"

"What?" Selkia asked, standing up immediately. Grayleaf's careless expression turned to a scowl.

"I'd bet it's OakClan again," Grayleaf said, getting to her paws. "I better get my herbs ready. This fight ain't gonna to end without any bloodshed."

Yowls and bellows came from outside of the den, and Selkia tensed. Her adrenaline started hyping her up, and she welcomed it. Grayleaf watched her cautiously.

"I wouldn't go out there, if I were you," Grayleaf told her. "This battle isn't for medicine cats or healers. Just let the warriors do what they do best and help me clean up the mess when it's over."

"I don't come from here," Selkia reminded the old she-cat. "Where I come from, the healers fight with the fighters." She turned to face the den entrance. However, she did not go out. She simply watched the battle from inside the den, waiting to be attacked.

"Oh, so you think they'll come for us, do you?" Grayleaf asked. "It's against their code to harm a medicine cat, so they won't come in here."

"It's also against their code to murder," Selkia spoke.

"Since when did you get this grandiose idea that you want to help this clan?" Grayleaf asked. "If you fight, you'll only be killed."

"I'm not going out there to fight," Selkia stated.

"Good," Grayleaf responded. "At least you're a _bit_ smart."

"But if they come in here, I'm not waiting for someone else to come in here to save us," Selkia told her. Grayleaf muttered about something, but instead of arguing, she went to her herbs.

Selkia was not used to being forced not to fight. She was used to home, where she was expected to fight no matter who's side she was one. If she didn't, she would be chased away. So, even though she had no business helping the clans, she wanted to. Badly.

For the longest time, Selkia believed PineClan would win the battle. They outnumbered the invasion patrol, and after the element of surprise had done its part, PineClan warriors seemed stronger than the OakClan ones.

But then the second patrol came in.

The PineClan warriors seemed to be outnumbered two to one, and things got worse from there. Stormstripe, by the sound of agony in his voice, was gravely injured, and when Selkia noticed Firepelt dash by, she realized the Queens had begun to fight as well.

_It's only a matter of time before they come in here, _Selkia thought. _No matter what Grayleaf says, the best way to defeat a Clan is to take away their source of healing._

A few heart-beats later, a large tom stopped by the den entrance. He was a dark brown tabby with menacing yellow eyes. He took a step forward, and immediately, Selkia's fur bristled and her claws unsheathed.

"If you take another step in here—"

The warrior lunged. Selkia surged forward, and the two collided. He was stronger than her, and managed to force her to the ground. Pinned, Selkia was almost certain he would tear out her throat and leave her to the crows.

In panic with this thought, the silver tabby kicked upward and forced the wind out of the tom, who began coughing uncontrollably. Selkia stood up and bared her teeth, ready to fight more if need be. At that moment, the tom lunged once more, but Selkia managed to slash open a gash near his eyes, to which he growled lowly.

_I need to get into a more open space, _Selkia thought.

She darted around the tom and squeezed through the den entrance before dashing into the center of the camp. When she turned around, the tabby tom crashed into her, and they went rolling over the ground.

Miraculously, Selkia ended up on top, and after she tore a gash in the tom's stomach, he took off, yowling with agony. For a moment, the silver tabby she-cat attempted to catch her breath, but then she caught the sight of a she-cat charging toward her.

Selkia fought the quick she-cat to the best of her abilities. She clawed at her shoulders, but the she-cat had bitten down hard on her leg. Selkia yowled, and with a powerful kick, she forced the she-cat off of her.

"You don't fight like a warrior," the she-cat said as Selkia tensed her muscles and prepared for more fighting. "You don't smell like one either. Who are you?"

"My name is Selkia," she said. "And I'm here because they think I murdered someone." The she-cat's eyes narrowed, and she was distracted. A PineClan warrior soon attacked her, and Selkia relaxed.

_I probably couldn't have defeated her, anyway, _she thought.

"Help me!"

Selkia's gaze snapped to the edge of camp, where a small gray she-cat around seven moons old lay pinned by an OakClan warrior.

"Help me! Somebody! Help me!"

Selkia froze, and she could feel her heart-beat increase rapidly. She could not see anything around her but darkness, flames, and the yowls of agony in the air.

Something collided with her, and before she knew it, teeth entered her neck. Selkia, through the chaos she felt, wanted to get away. She had to get away. She had to run. She had to run as fast as she could. So she struggled, but to no avail.

She was stuck.

The cat upon her continued fighting, which gained her a few more scratches. After a long while, however, Selkia felt weightless, and she realized she was no longer being perused. Slowly, she sat up, and with wide eyes, she numbly looked for something that wasn't there.

"Selkia—"

She turned her gaze to the sound of the voice. Nightheart was surrounded by three OakClan warriors, and he seemed badly injured.

"Selkia, please—"

A tom lunged, and the others followed. Instinct took Selkia then, and she surged into the fray. A she-cat turned around and began clawing at her, but Selkia had jerked out of the way before the claws met her skin. She raised her paw and forced a gash on the she-cat's cheek.

The she-cat lunged toward her in fury, and Selkia numbly did the same. As they collided, she felt claws nick the skin near her neck. Her mind responded by making her teeth sink into the she-cat's neck. For a moment, the OakClan warrior flailed, and as Selkia let her go, she dashed away through the camp.

Without a heartbeat to think or collect herself, Selkia turned and lunged at another warrior fighting Nightheart. Though strong, Selkia was quick, and so she managed to send the tom away with a deep gash in his side.

Selkia surged into the tom on top of Nightheart, and they went rolling through the dirt. The tom snapped at her neck, and she put all of her effort in keeping him away. She clawed at his stomach, and though she felt blood, he did not seem phased at all.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nightheart running toward them. In another heartbeat, the tom was off of her, and so she stood and chased after the OakClan warrior and Nightheart. Finally, the two had the OakClan warrior pinned; they stood in front as he had backed up against the cliff.

"No, please, I never wanted—"

"Enough!" came a very loud voice.

Selkia turned as Nightheart did. The black tom gasped.

"Ripplestar? Why would she. . .?" Nightheart drifted off, and his eyes narrowed. "This invasion wasn't a plan of OakClan's, then."

"What?" Selkia asked. "But they attacked us!"

"Ripplestar!" came the booming voice of Adderstar, who stood on the edge of the high ledge. "What is the meaning of this? Haven't we come to an agreement?"

"We have," Ripplestar said. "And I shall honor it to the day my last life leaves me. So trust me when I say I had nothing to do with this. My warriors acted of their own accord."

"Why would they do such a thing?" Adderstar asked. "Your warriors have always been loyal to you."

"They believe, without any evidence, that my deputy was murdered by one of your patrols," Ripplestar told him. Yowls of protests followed.

"We haven't touched him!"

"We aren't so dishonorable we would murder!"

"I can assure you," said Adderstar, "that my clan, or at least as far as I know, did not kill Barkshade."

Ripplestar gave a respectful dip of her head. "I understand, and I believe you. No PineClan scent was upon him when he was found."

Selkia's eyes narrowed.

"Adderstar," came Nightheart's voice. The brown leader looked to him. "Should this be true, and we do have a murderer on the loose, does this mean Selkia is innocent?"

"Or she could just be the killer," hissed Cloudfur from a few fox-lengths away. Selkia shot her a glare.

"It depends," Adderstar spoke. "Ripplestar, when was your deputy's body found?"

"This morning around the time my dawn patrol was out," Ripplestar answered.

"Then Selkia is innocent," Adderstar said. "She was already our prisoner at this time. She could not have killed Barkshade."

"But she still could have killed Whitefire," Stormstripe pointed out.

"Was Whitefire's body found near our border?" Ripplestar asked.

"Yes," Adderstar answered.

"Then this loner has nothing to do with the situation," Ripplestar responded. "Whoever is murdering our warriors has one goal, and that is to send us all back to war. You've seen what it has done to us with just one death."

"She could be the one—"

"Selkia didn't know Clan customs or clan history when she came," Nightheart said calmly to Cloudfur. "How could she have known of our rivalry? How could she have even known who the deputy _was_?"

_Why is he defending me? _Selkia asked herself.

"I believe Nightheart is right," Adderstar said. "Nevertheless, the murderer must be caught. And if he or she is in one of our clans, we must be careful."

"Indeed," Ripplestar spoke. "For now, though, I must return to my clan. We have quite the discussion ahead of us."

"May StarClan light your path," Adderstar said. Ripplestar gave another dip of her head before she turned and padded out of the camp. Her warriors, with their heads low, followed.

"I apologize for our mistake," came the voice of the tom Nightheart and Selkia had pinned. "Losing one of your own, however, must at least allow you to know how we felt." With a dip of his head, he trotted away to regroup with his clan.

"Selkia!" called Grayleaf from her den. Selkia turned to face the medicine cat. "Come here and help me before these warriors die of impatience!" The silver tabby nodded and started forward.

She squeezed in and squirmed through the crowd already gathered by the den before making her way to Grayleaf, who had grabbed the appropriate herbs.

"Oh, StarClan, of _course_ you're injured," Grayleaf sighed. She picked up a few herbs and started forward. "Stand still." Selkia backed away.

"I'm not too wounded," she said, shifting nervously in her spot. "We should heal the others first."

"I've got plenty of herbs, hon," Grayleaf told her. "And besides, you'll work better when you aren't bleeding like the rest of them." She took another step forward, and Selkia tensed.

"This doesn't feel right," Selkia said. "Where I was raised—"

"Ain't no one got any time for stories right now," Grayleaf said. "You're in the clans now, and in the clans, the medicine cats are important. Why, without cats like us, how do you think these mouse-brains treat their wounds for infections? And once leaf-bare comes, they'd all suffer from Greencough and die before newleaf would return!" As she spoke, she had gotten closer and had begun applying the herbs. She was done very quickly.

"Thank you," Selkia said.

"I'm a medicine cat, healing is what I do," Grayleaf said. "Now let's get to healing these cats!"

From then until moonhigh, Selkia applied marigold and cobwebs as directed by Grayleaf. The old she-cat wasn't giving up control, and Selkia wasn't going to fight her. She was happy for the mindless jobs, for after a little while, she slowly slipped into a mechanical state without a thought or care in the world.

"Well, Nighteart, it seems you'll survive," Grayleaf said. "Just don't go on too many patrols for the next few days. You wouldn't want to open any of these wounds."

"I'm grateful," Nightheart said. Then he switched his gaze to Selkia. "Good night."

"Good night," Selkia responded. He turned, and in an instant, he was gone.

"Hmm," Grayleaf said, grinning. Selkia shook her head.

"I know what you're thinking," she said. "Stop thinking it."

"Why not? It's true," Grayleaf claimed.

"It's not!" Selkia exclaimed with a smile on her face. "Nightheart's just the only cat aside from you who tolerates me. That's all."

"I've lived a long time," Grayleaf said, "and I know for sure that isn't all it is."

"Believe what you want," Selkia spoke, curling up in her nest. "Nightheart and I are just friends."

* * *

><p><strong>An :: I do not own warriors. **

_I'm back with a challenge from WingClan! _

_: Prompt : _

_**_**"You were walking along in the forest, just a normal loner, minding your own business. Suddenly, you hear a rustle in the bushes. Out of curiosity, you decided to investigate. To your utmost horror, there was a dead cat lying there. What happens next?" **_**_

__And yes, there is a second part. The entire thing is 11,000 words, however, so I decided to give it to you guys in to in two parts. Do you like it so far? My favorite character is Grayleaf. I don't know why, but she's just so charismatic! I'm definitely going to have to use her in my main story. ^.^__

__{O} The Assassins Anthem, may darkness be with you.__


	3. Can We Know? :: Part 2 :: The Guilty

Selkia woke up before dawn once more. She arched her back and yawned before assessing the time. Once she knew what time of the day it was, she trotted out of the den and straight to the fresh-kill pile.

Cautiously, she took a piece of prey and began to eating it. Every few seconds, she would raise her head and attempt to see if anyone was going to attack her. However, no one came.

Stormstripe came soon after. He made it to the fresh-kill pile, and once he took his vole, he gave a dip of his head as a symbol of respect to her. Selkia narrowed her eyes with confusion, but he paid no attention. The deputy simply went forward to the high ledge where Adderstar waited for him.

Selkia continued eating, and once she was done, she noticed more cats emerging from their dens. Most of them made their way to the fresh-kill pile first, and each one of them passed her without a glance, as if she wasn't even there.

_Yesterday they were obsessed with making me feel guilty, and now they don't even think I exist, _Selkia thought. _How could a single claim change their mind so—_

"Selkia!" Adderstar called from the high ledge. She noticed Stormstripe was no longer with him. Had he finished his daily discussion with the warrior?

The silver tabby stood and trotted over to the leader. Up close, she wasn't as wary. One, she was a head taller than him. Two, he seemed warm in personality. Even caring. She felt like she could tell him anything, and he would keep the secret.

"Seeing as you are innocent, I see no reason for you to be kept here any longer," Adderstar said. "You are free to leave when you wish."

Selkia nodded and said, "Thank you. I'll be on my way as soon as I speak to—"

"Hey, Selkia, there's someone I want you to meet!"

It was Nightheart.

Adderstar gave a small chuckle. "You'd better go. Nightheart can get impatient." Selkia gave a bleak smile and went toward the black tom.

"Nightheart, there's something—"

"Come on," Nightheart spoke, darting forward. Selkia sighed, and followed him. They went to the left corner of the camp, where a fallen tree with hanging moss shaded a spot where she scented more cats. Three, to be exact.

"Who are they?" Selkia asked, stopping. "I haven't scented them before."

"They're the elders," Nightheart said.

"The elders?" Selkia questioned.

"Yeah," Nightheart told her. "The cats too old to hunt and fight."

"You keep those around?" Selkia asked.

"Well of course," Nightheart said. "It would be cruel to send them away."

"I just thought, since your clan is based on everyone working—"

"Is that a newcomer, I hear?" came a voice from the den.

"Must be that 'Selkia' those kits have been talkin' about," came another voice.

"And Nightheart, too!" exclaimed a third voice. "Would you both come in? We need some company."

Nightheart's gaze switched to her. They were filled with a spark of excitement, as if he were a kit. She sighed, but walked into the den.

There were three cats; two she-cats, and a tom. The tom was a gray tabby, and he sat next to a cream colored she-cat. A bit further away was a black she-cat with shining green eyes.

"So beautiful!" exclaimed the cream she-cat. "Isn't she, Stonefoot?"

"Yes she is, Paletail," the gray tabby, Stonefoot, said. "Toms must be fighting over you, where you come from, eh?"

"Let's not overwhelm the poor thing, now," came the black she-cat's voice. Her green eyes met Selkia's. "I am Blackclaw. It is nice to finally meet you."

"Word travels fast in this clan, doesn't it?" Selkia asked.

"Oh, especially around here!" Stonefoot said. "What else do you expect old cats like us to do all day but gossip?" Paletail chuckled.

"Thank StarClan you were proven innocent," Paletail spoke. "It would be a shame on PineClan to punish an innocent cat. At least now that Ripplestar proved you innocent, you can—"

"Oh, Selkia, there's something else," Nightheart said, walking over to Blackclaw. Once next to her, he faced Selkia and said, "This is my mother's older sister."

"He always seems proud to be related to an elder," Blackclaw sighed. "Maybe he thinks it improves his chance of getting here one day."

"That's not the reason," Nightheart said. "It's—"

Something soft slid past Selkia suddenly, and she jumped backwards. She looked downward and saw three kits climbing over Blackclaw, who simply let them.

"Tell us a story!" they demanded.

"You silly kits, get off," Blackclaw said. One by one, they scrambled off and to their tiny paws before rushing to the front of Blackclaw.

"Please, please tell us a story!" said one kit.

"Mama has gotten so _boring!" _claimed the other one.

"Well, I would, but I have another guest to attend to," Blackclaw said. The kits turned to face Selkia.

"Hey, you're that cat that ran into!" exclaimed the gray kit. Bluekit, Selkia realized.

"That's really her?" asked a white she-cat.

"See, Lilykit, I _told _you it happened!" Bluekit shouted.

"So you're the cat everyone says is innocent now?" asked the third kit, a light gray tom. "I would have said that all along! You're not strong enough to take down Whitefire!"

"She is to, Ashkit!" Lilykit said. "Ivypaw said she helped fight yesterday!"

"But she's a medicine cat," Bluekit said. "Medicine cats don't fight. . ."

"Where Selkia comes from, they do," Nightheart spoke.

"Really?" Lilykit asked. "Do they have warriors and elders and leaders like we do?"

Nightheart turned his gaze to Selkia as all of the kits had their eyes on her. She shifted nervously.

"Er, it's a bit complicating. . ."

"We'll listen, we promise!" claimed Ashkit.

Selkia stared at them, trying to find a way out. However, the elders didn't seem keen on helping, and the kits weren't going to give up. So she sighed, laid down, and made herself comfortable.

"Alright," she said.

"Yay!" they all said at once.

"So, are their elders where you lived?"

"No," she said. "I lived in the city, you see, with a group of cats that only wanted to be free from twolegs. When cats got older, they didn't want that freedom as much, and so they settled down with old twolegs that had many old cats, and let them go in and out as they pleased."

"That's mouse-brained!" Lilykit exclaimed. "Elders have good stories! Why would your clan not want them around?"

"I wasn't the one who made the rules," Selkia reminded the kit.

"Who did?" Bluekit asked.

"I guess their leaders did, way back when the city cats decided to stay strays," Selkia said.

"They have more than one leader?" Nightheart asked. "That's peculiar."

"It works, though," Selkia said. "With three cats holding up different ideas and issues of the group, the cats themselves are represented more."

"Stop talking about boring warrior stuff!" Lilykit ordered. "What about kits? Are they there?"

"Sometimes," Selkia responded with a small chuckle. "Some Queens leave in fear of the violence their kits would be around. Some stay in hopes their kit will rise through the ranks."

"Violence?" Bluekit asked. "Like the fight that happened yesterday?" Selkia nodded.

"The city cats weren't the only group around," Selkia explained. "There were battles, and I fought in many of them."

"But wouldn't the clan need their medicine cat?" Bluekit asked.

"I wasn't the only one who knew how to heal," Selkia said. "Plus, I hadn't been there long enough to have a say in whether or not I had to fight."

"You weren't born there?" Blackclaw asked.

"No," Selkia said. "I was born as a two-leg cat."

"A kittypet?" Lilykit asked. "But they aren't supposed to know how to fight!"

"I learned from the city cats when I was six moons old," Selkia said.

"That's quite odd," claimed Paletail. "Why would a kittypet want to leave the comforts of home?"

"Yeah, why would they?" Bluekit questioned.

"I had nowhere else to go," Selkia said. "So when I ran into the city cats, they fed me, and told me I could stay if I learned how to fight. So I did."

"Did you win all of your battles?" the Ashkit asked.

"Most of them," Selkia responded.

"Wow!" Lilykit exclaimed. "Wait, that's your home, isn't it? So does that mean you'll be going back there soon?" Selkia's smile faded.

"No," Selkia answered, tensing her muscles. "I won't be returning."

"Why not?" Bluekit asked.

"It's. . .complicating. . ." Selkia said. She felt her teeth clench and her heartbeat increased.

"Aw! That's what you said earlier!" Lilykit whined. "Please?"

"No, I—" Selkia shook her head. "Sorry—" She quickly stood up and ran out of the elders den and through the camp. It was a blur as she went straight through the camp entrance, and out into the forest. She stopped several fox-lengths away and allowed herself to breathe.

_It happened moons ago, _she told herself. _You are fine. Stop being pathetic. _

_"Pathetic. . ." _

Selkia's muscles tensed, and her claws unsheathed into the ground. That voice, though not real, sent shivers down her spine.

"Selkia?"

For a moment, her breathing, heartbeat, and thoughts completely stopped. After a few seconds, the latter two continued, but she could not think, and panic began to surge through her.

Nightheart sat next to her, and she felt is calmness like a bed of moss after a long, hard day. Her heart-beat slowed, and she could think again. She felt at ease. Warm. Calm.

"Why did you chase after me?" she asked.

"What?" he asked.

"Why did you follow me?"

"Oh," he said. "Well, you left in quite the hurry, and I could tell something wasn't right. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Or make sure I wasn't leaving," Selkia said sharply. Watching him flinch forced a hallow feeling to erupt inside of her.

"I admit that I've been a little. . ._pushy_ today," Nightheart said. "However, I truly did want to see if you were okay. From what I could see, you looked like you were having an attack, and having been through them myself, I figured—"

"'An attack?" Selkia asked, looking up to meet his gaze. "What is that?"

"It's when you feel like you're trapped," Nightheart spoke. "Like no matter what you do, you won't be able to run fast enough out of that space and away from those cats. And when you finally do get away from them, your heart seems ready to explode." Selkia narrowed her eyes.

"You. . ." she began, but then she stopped herself and averted her eyes.

Nightheart sighed. "I was five moons old."

"What?" Selkia interrupted, switching her gaze back up to her. Then she saw the look in his eye. "Wait—You don't have to—"

"Well I'm going to," Nightheart said calmly. "If you're going to sit there depressed, I might as well entertain you with a story."

"Not _that _one!" Selkia exclaimed. "I know how much it means to you by your expression—you don't need to tell me!"

"Too bad," he said, almost in a teasing tone. "Back to what I was saying. . ." Selkia gave an exasperated sigh. A small smile played across Nightheart's face.

He was enjoying this.

"I was five moons old, nearly able to become an apprentice. And I was ready for it, too. The sooner I became an apprentice, the sooner I got to fight alongside the other apprentices and warriors in the battles with OakClan, just like my mother and father.

"One day, they both went out on a patrol," Nightheart said.

"Your mother went on a patrol while she was still a Queen?" Selkia questioned.

"We had so few warriors to go on patrol, my father would be the only one who could have gone that night had she stayed," Nightheart explained. "So they went together to remark the borders and see if OakClan had recovered from the previous battle. The next day, when the dawn patrol returned, they returned with two OakClan warriors, and the bodies of my parents."

Selkia's shoulders fell, and as she stared at him, she saw his expression fade. He was absently staring at something in front of him. She averted her eyes quickly.

"My siblings and I were devastated, and I decided I didn't want to be an apprentice. My brothers, however . . . they wanted to be apprentices right then. They wanted their revenge, despite the fact the OakClan warriors that had actually done the crime were killed. Of course, Adderstar refused to name them early. So, one day, they disappeared from camp, and that day at dusk, the patrol brought their bodies back."

_How could one cat endure so much? _Selkia thought. _Why should we _have_ to? _

"It wasn't all in vain, though," Nightheart said. "Because of the death of my siblings, the Warrior Code had been officially broken, and not just one rule. So Adderstar called for immediate action against OakClan, and within the moon, peace had been made."

"Your entire family. . ." Selkia said softly.

"If you say you're sorry, I might just have to leave," Nightheart said. Selkia raised her gaze with narrowed eyes, but then she saw the smirk he was trying to hide.

"Right," she said. "I do have one question though. . .How can you talk so _calmly_ about this?"

"Blackclaw," Nightheart answered. "She helped me through most of it. And when I had an attack, she would calm me down, telling me of stories she and her sister had. After hearing all of the things she had seen, I decided not to dwell on it. I told myself I didn't have the worst life in the world. And then I moved on."

Selkia gave a bleak expression.

"You're much stronger than I am, then," she said.

"It depends," he said with a mischievous grin. "Did you have someone to help you through it, like I did?"

"Oh no," Selkia said, smiling. "I'm no mouse-brain. I'm not going to tell you the entire story just because you told me yours."

"I wasn't expecting you to," Nightheart said. "But now, it's up to you to tell me."

"What is that supposed to—"

There was a rustling next to them, and both sharply turned their gazes to that spot. Cloudfur emerged, then, with a plump mouse in her mouth. She gave a quick glare to them, but walked on toward the camp.

"She won't ever forgive me, will she?" Selkia asked. "It's not like I even did anything! I was just hunting right outside the border."

"I suppose you won't tell me why you ran away from the city, would you?" Nightheart said.

"No, I won't," Selkia said. "If I told you that much, I might as well tell you the whole story."

"That's a bit unnerving," he said.

"What?" Selkia asked sharply.

"If that's the case, whatever happened has been haunting you for your entire life," Nightheart spoke. "And that can't be easy."

"I would usually retort with 'what do you know' but of course, with you, that's impossible," Selkia sighed. "Do you realize how frustrating that is?"

"Oh dear, you can't insult me or start unnecessary banter," Nightheart said, smirking. "I feel so sorry for you."

"Admit it, you—" Selkia stopped, and her smile vanished.

Nightheart's grin faded, and then he asked, "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"Do you smell that?" she asked, searching the undergrowth in front of her.

"Smell what?" he questioned.

Selkia surged forward and ran as fast as she could toward the scent. It grew stronger and more vile as she grew closer, and soon, she answered her own question and confirmed her own dread: death. Selkia stopped when she saw the body, and clenched her teeth when she realized who it was.

Stormstripe.

"Selkia, what—" Nightheart stopped himself. "Great, Starclan. . ."

For a moment, they simply stared at the gray tabby's body, as if the world stopped. The Selkia took a deep breath.

"The wound is new," she spoke. "This couldn't have happened long ago."

"Before dawn?" Nightheart asked.

"No," she said. "Sometime between when you found me to now."

"That's not long at all," Nightheart spoke. "What if we go back to camp and see who wasn't there in that time? It could narrow down the suspects by a lot—"

"The murderer wouldn't be stupid enough to have no alibi," Selkia said. "There has to be a clue. Something that could—"

Her eyes widened.

"Cloudfur," she said.

"Do you have bees in your brain? Whitefire was her mate!" Nightheart exclaimed.

Selkia's eyes narrowed. "That hasn't mattered in the past."

"What in StarClan's name has made you think—"

"We're running out of time," Selkia growled, stepping forward. "Let's bring his body back to camp."

"What? You just accused one of the nicest she-cats around of murdering her—"

"We don't have time to argue!" Selkia shrieked. Nightheart paused, and then he sighed. Selkia grabbed Stormstripe's body by the scruff of his neck and began pulling towards the camp.

Nightheart began to help, and they went faster. His eyes were narrowed, and his muscles were tense. He kept staring at her, as if he no longer trusted her. However, Selkia knew that was not the case, for he still held that calm demeanor, the one which seemed to assure her she was safe.

They managed to get to the entrance of the camp quite quickly. The guards in the front were not there, which made Selkia nervous. She continued on however, and stepped through the entrance.

"Traitors!"

Selkia's gaze shot upward as she let go of Stormstripe's body. She froze in shock as she saw a warrior—Snowfeather—racing toward her. Suddenly, a flash of black interrupted her vision, and the cat before her skidded to a halt.

"Nightheart. . .!" she gasped.

"If you want to get to her, you'll have to get through me," he growled toward the warrior.

"Gladly," Snowfeather muttered. "After what you did to Stormstripe—"

"_We_?" Nightheart asked. "We did nothing! We found him—"

"That's a lie!" another warrior shouted. "Cloudfur has just finished telling us how you attacked them both and—"

"What are you talking about? We—"

"Enough!" Adderstar shouted. Selkia saw him walk forward to where Snowfeather had stopped. "Do not discuss this as quarreling kits. We are full grown cats. Now," he looked to Nightheart. "Explain yourself."

"Cloudfur just said—" Snowfeather began.

"We must treat both sides fairly," Adderstar hissed with a flick of his tail. "Nightheart, if you will."

"As the elders can tell you, Selkia and I were sharing stories until she ran, and I followed her out of camp," Nightheart began. "I calmed her down. We were just talking. Cloudfur came half way through our conversation holding a mouse, and then we spoke some more. We thought nothing of it. Then Selkia scented blood, and then we found Stormstripe's body. We brought it back, just as any sensible warrior would have done."

"Lies!" Cloudfur shouted. "I saw them—I fought them! They tried to kill me as _well _as Stormstripe!"

Selkia's eyes snapped over to the white she-cat, who seemed to have many scratches and gashes, as if she had just gone through a battle.

Selkia's claws unsheathed into the ground.

"How could you blame me?" Selkia shouted. "Why would I want Stormstripe dead?"

"You want these clans at war, so your precious city cats can take over this forest," Cloudfur hissed.

"I left the city cats," Selkia growled. "And I left them for this reason! I never even wanted to be a part of this!"

"And who's here to prove that this is true?" Snowfeather asked.

"How could Selkia have done this?" Nightheart asked. "We've already established the murderer killed both Whitefire _and _Barkshade. Selkia couldn't have done that, she and I were here the entire time!"

"Who said you weren't?" Cloudfur asked. "No one saw you in the warrior den, and by the time we saw you at camp, you could have killed him. See? They're working together!"

"No!" Nightheart shouted. "Cloudfur could just as well be the murderer!" He glanced to Selkia.

"How could I possibly—?"

"I was the only one awake early the day Barkshade was killed," Selkia said. "You were there, though, walking into camp. You took my prey. And today, I saw blood on you while you past. I assumed it was the mouse's blood, but now I know better—"

"You still have little proof," Snowfeather spat. "Cloudfur could have been simply making dirt! And how could Cloudfur have killed her own mate? Why would she do such a thing?"

"What about us?" Nightheart asked. "Why would _we _want to kill anyone? What would we gain?"

"Selkia wants her city cats to take over, but it was _your _idea all along, Nightheart, and you know it," Cloudfur shouted. "You wanted OakClan and PineClan to engage themselves in battle once more to get your revenge. Isn't it obvious? Even after all of these moons, you still want to avenge your family."

Nightheart's eyes widened more than two moons.

"No. . ." he said softly.

Selkia's eyes narrowed. "The wounds on Cloudfur are fake! They are too new—a lot later than Stormstripe's death!"

"Grayleaf," Adderstar spoke. "Can you confirm this?"

The gray she-cat padded forward to Stormstripe's body, and after giving a careful glance to Selkia, she went to Cloudfur. Selkia's heart began to race. This was their last pieces of evidence, the last thing that would save them.

"The wounds," began Grayleaf, her voice deep with sorrow. "were forced upon them about the same time."

Silence took them all.

_There's no evidence proving we didn't do it. _

_They all think we did it. _

_We can't—_

_We have too—_

"I am disappointed in you, Nightheart," came Adderstar's voice. It was shaky, but still controlled. "After what happened to your family, I never expected. . ." He clenched his jaw. "You must both leave. Now."

"No!" Nightheart shouted. "We didn't do any of this! You can't—"

"Don't make this harder than it has to be!" Adderstar hissed. "Leave, and should you ever return, I will kill you _myself_."

Nightheart's eyes grew wider, if they could. Selkia clenched her jaw. _They aren't going to change their mind, no matter what we do. _She walked forward and stood beside Nightheart.

"Fine," she said. "We'll leave."

"Selkia, what are you—" Nightheart began.

"One day, however, you will come to know the truth, and you will feel the guilt, and you will want us to return," she said firmly with as much spite in her words as she could have. "And though you will reach out to us, we will be gone, and you will be sorry."

Selkia turned and said, "Come on, Nightheart. They've made their decision, so let them die with it." Nightheart didn't come at first, but as she walked on, she heard him follow. They walked straight out of camp, calmly, composed, and collected.

Soon, Selkia was certain they could not see her.

And then they ran.

They ran until dusk, stopping only to catch their breath. Then they would run again. They made it out of the territory by sunhigh, but Selkia kept going. She kept running. After a long while, they slowed, but they never truly stopped or spoke.

Eventually, her body seemed to break. She saw a flash of something—butterflies, she later found out. She stumbled, and fumbled, and tumbled before finding herself in the oddest position, panting, breathing, gasping for air. Nightheart stopped next to her, seeming to be equally as winded.

"Selkia, we have to stop," he said. "It's nearly dark."

"We're cats, darkness shouldn't get in the way," she growled.

"It wouldn't be like this if we had stayed and fought," Nightheart sighed.

"And died?" Selkia asked. "The evidence was stacked against us. And besides, they'll learn soon enough that we were innocent. Once the next murder victim comes up, and then again when the war starts, and also after that when they don't have two excellent fighters on their paws to help them fight their battles."

"I know," he said. "I thought about it, and I understand now. It's just. . .that's been my home for _so _long, and now they all think I'm a murderer, and. . ."

"It's not fun, I know," she said. She exhaled deeply. "But that's behind us now. We're just two loners on the move."

"So I'm guessing we aren't settling down here," he said softly.

"No," she said. "If I've learned anything from my time as a loner, you can't stop moving. Not unless you've got enough in your group to defend the territory you're on."

"At least you aren't completely alone this time," Nightheart told her.

She nodded absently. Then she tensed her muscles. "Nightheart?"

"Yes?"

"Can I trust you?" she asked.

"We were both just accused of murder," Nightheart said, "and you're asking me if you can trust me?"

"Just answer my question," she said with a flick of her tail.

"Sorry," he told her. "Yes, you can trust me. I mean, really, how could you not? I can't leave you here, if that's what you're getting at. I don't know anything about living outside of the clan territories. In reality, I need you more than you need me."

"That's not true," she said.

"Why not?" he asked. "I hardly think you need someone to help you hunt, and you definitely don't need me to help you fight—"

"I need someone to help me with the attacks," Selkia interrupted me. "I need someone to be there when I hallucinate and live inside the nightmare. I. . .I need someone to know what I've been through so I don't feel insane." Nightheart shifted nervously.

"Selkia, just because we're alone—you don't have to tell me—"

"And you didn't have to tell me, so just sit there and listen _silently_, will you?" she asked sharply. He gave a bleak smile, and she rolled her eyes.

"I was born in a two-leg's house, as you heard," Selkia began. "My whole family was there, being fed by a very old two-leg. It named me Selkia, but her noises were different than most two-legs, so I'm not sure 'Selkia' was what she wanted to name me. Anyway, I lived in that house for six moons. It was. . .enjoyable. I had a perfect life; my mother, my father, and my sister.

"Then the house caught fire. I'm not sure how, but I just remember waking up, and being told to run. I think it was my mother who said it. So I ran. I ran all of the way outside, expecting my family to be behind me. So when I turned around and saw no one, I. . .I panicked. I wanted to help them, but the fire kept choking me, and I was so _afraid. . . _And as I stood there, all I could hear was my sister's screaming. It was agony. Probably just as much for me as it was for her.

"Some time after that, the smoke choked me to the point of darkness. I woke up the next morning in an ally way with the city cats around me. They told me about their place, and I, with all of my stupid honor, decided to give back to them by becoming both a healer and a fighter. It was rare, but it wasn't impossible. I served them for so many moons. . .

"Then I felt myself becoming corrupted. I don't know how I realized it, but I did. And then, when I confronted the leaders about what I was feeling, they laughed, and they told me it was normal, that one usually feels guilty for not doing more than what they are doing. I knew they were wrong, and I kept pressing the matter, threatening that I would leave. I did it until they told me my father had worked for them, and then abandoned them. And then they saw the fire, and they made sure my family did not get out alive.

"I pretended to understand, to be too scared to carry out my threats. But then, late one night, I ran. They followed me for days, trying desperately to track me down. They couldn't, but I still kept going. I would stay in a dead monster for a few days. In bushes the next."

"It must have been so hard," Nightheart said. "Although, now that we're in almost the same position, I guess it's hard for us, too."

"Always have to make it about you, huh?" Selkia teased.

"Maybe," he said, smirking. "In any case, I think we're the two best cats to be stuck with each other on a journey to nowhere. I mean, we've both been through things that have wiped our families out in about a day or so, and we both have attacks."

"Have?" Selkia asked. "I thought you got rid of them?"

"I lied," Nightheart spoke. Selkia raised her eye brows. "What? I was trying to reassure you, and admitting they never go away is _not _the way to go."

"I don't care if they don't go away," Selkia spat. "I just care that there is someone there that can snap me back to reality."

"I will if you will," Nightheart said. "Deal?"

Selkia rolled her eyes. "Deal."

"Wonderful," he said, grinning. "Er . . .now what?"

Selkia laughed. "You truly are helpless, aren't you? We've got to find shelter. I would say we could hunt, but I think both of our meals were spoiled earlier today."

"You've got _that _right," Nightheart said. Their eyes met for a moment. Then he shifted nervously in his spot. "You know, I realize we've only known each other for a few sunrises, and relationships take time, and we're in a tight spot, and I really shouldn't be thinking about this—"

"Nightheart," she interrupted. "Get to your point."

"I love you."

Selkia smiled knowingly.

"You're in luck," she said. "I love you too."

* * *

><p><strong>An :: I do not own Warriors**

_Second part of the Challenge from WingClan! The initial prompt is the one before, but this part also has another one._

_:: Prompt ::_

_**It must include romance.**__**It must include death.**__**And a butterfly.**_

_So yeah. Half way through I was given the option to have Selkia and Nightheart be proven innocent, or Cloudfur, and I chose the latter because it was less cliche if an option. Plus it just made perfect sense. And you all might think I made up this huge thing all on my own and put all the pieces together, when really I just chose a path and found out where it lead me. _

_Enjoy! =)_

_{O} The Assassins Anthem, may darkness be with you._


	4. Insanity (WingClan Challenge)

I am Lilyfur. From my bright name, you can already guess that I am a medicine cat. However, I am also the leader of this clan, as well as the deputy. In a matter of speaking, at least. Are you curious as to how? Well, I can tell you one thing. If I went to the Moonpool, they wouldn't be particularly pleased with me.

You want to know more, I'm guessing. So listen. I'm not going to hold anything back. Even though the Warriors of this treacherous clan would believe me to be evil—or at least the act I have committed to be evil—I did the right thing. The only thing.

When I was a kit, my brother and I were more than close. You see, I didn't think about what my ambitions would seem like in the eyes of the other kits. _They _wanted to be warriors, like all kits did, and yet here I was, wanting to be a medicine cat, something only a _weakling _would ask for. So I was bullied.

But it wasn't all bad; my brother, Hawkkit, was the strongest kit there. He was amazing when it came to fighting. So no one argued with him, even when it was about me. And there began our relationship. I would never leave his side, and he would never leave mine.

Eventually, we had to separate at least a little bit. We were apprentices. He went off to learn how to hunt, and I learned my herbs. I was nervous at first, concerned of what everyone would say to me now that my brother wasn't around as often. However, no one criticized me. Not even the other apprentices. Hawkpaw would still check on me, of course. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't come into the medicine cat den and have a conversation with me. Not even when his duties kept him up from dawn to moonhigh!

We were ten moons old when the first battles had begun. ShadowClan attacked and attacked, and we were very unprepared. After all, there had been no conflicts. Well, none that I knew of. But they fought as if our clans had been at war for moons. I was busy in those days. I healed as fast as I could, along with my mentor. It was horrible, some of the wounds I saw. But I kept an even mind and moved on.

Hawkpaw was the real hero. Every day he would return and see me with horrendous wounds, but he seemed as if he wasn't bothered by them at all. He would tell me of his accomplishments in battle, and oh how much they grew! He seemed, at least to me, to be one of the best fighters in the apprentice rank.

One day, he didn't come back. I was worried sick, so much that I could hardly moved. His patrol had been captured, you see. They had surrendered to ShadowClan and were taken as prisoners. The ThunderClan leader at the time. . .what a mouse-brain he was! He kept going on about how he couldn't get them back, about how a few cats just weren't worth it. I was angry, but I wasn't terribly sad. I knew Hawkpaw would come back to me.

The next day, he did. He had escaped all on his own with another warrior. Sadly, the other hadn't wished to come. But that's not important. Hawkpaw had returned, and he had saved a warrior! It wasn't surprising Hawkpaw got his warrior name. He was from then on called Hawkheart. I was so proud!

The war, despite going on for many moons, finally ended when the ThunderClan leader was defeated. I was so worried ShadowClan would take us over. The deputy, Longfur, struck a deal, one which gave up a lot of our territory, but still managed to keep us as ThunderClan.

Longfur soon became Longstar, and Oakice was taken as a deputy. I thought it was unfair. My brother fought so much better than Oakice! But I stayed calm. Oakice was older than Hawkheart, so maybe he would retire and then my brother could be deputy!

I told him this, of course. I wanted to reassure him that he could be deputy if he still wanted to be. Then he said something odd, something like, "What difference does it make, if we're all going to die someday?" I was confused, and I noticed he was a little depressed. But everyone was in those days, so I didn't care too much.

Leaf-bare was coming, and Longstar was preparing as fast as he could to wage a war while ShadowClan was weak. After all, ThunderClan would not have survived the leaf-bare with what little food we had. It was impossible!

Longstar attacked ShadowClan with his own force. The two clans were at war again. Hawkheart fought bravely, as always. He defeated many cats, as I was told. And I healed as usual. I was close to getting my medicine cat name, too. I was excited.

Greencough came.

It was so horrible, the amount of deaths we had that season. I was devastated when little Lionkit died in my paws. But my mentor kept going, and I followed suit. I was responsible for these cats, and I was not going to let them die!

And then my mentor got sick.

We didn't notice at first. She just coughed, and that was normal with all of that Greencough smell. However, she got worse and worse, to the point where I had to start taking care of her like I did the other cats. Eventually, as leaf-bare faded and the war drew to a close, she died.

I got my medicine cat name and continued healing everyone. We lost thirteen cats that year; nine warriors, two apprentices, an elder, and a kit. But we survived. It wasn't easy, with us all being half-starved and insane from all that had happened, but we did it.

And Hawkheart became a deputy. Oakice had died in one of the lasts battles, and Hawkheart rose to the rank. He told me one day he didn't want to be deputy, that he would rather have died in battle. However, he did the job flawlessly. Never had ThunderClan been so organized!

We lived in peace, then. Hawkheart would come to greet me every day, and his depression faded over time, just like everyone else. We began to talk about normal things, and do normal things. It was just like when we were apprentices.

Hawkheart was nearly a senior warrior when he became leader. Longstar had died from a fox attack which had been around when he had taken a hunting patrol out to stretch his legs. According to Hawkheart, he had never gotten his nine lives out of fear, only pretended he did. No one else knew, however, and began to panic.

So Hawkheart went to the Moonpool and got his nine lives. Hawkstar was finally a leader! I was strutting around for days as he settled everyone down and spoke with all of the senior warriors with the authority he deserved. And then, at gatherings, he sat in the tree! It was an image I would never forget.

Moons went on normally again. Hawkstar proved to be a good and just leader to everyone, even a loner that passed through the territory with an injured leg. The clan wanted to send her away, but I helped her, just like Hawkstar ordered. She was nice. A bit loud with sarcastic threats, but still, nice.

The clan began to speak badly of my brother in his later days as a leader. They said he kept muttering about ShadowClan being evil, and I was appalled they didn't agree with him. After all, ShadowClan was the reason for many of the deaths in our lives.

Hawkstar was also criticized for preventing so many hunting parties to go out at a certain time. So what? He wanted to allow the cats to have more time! And then, once, the clans began to openly shout about how mouse-brained he was for letting WindClan take some territory for hunting.

The older we got, the more the clan disliked Hawkstar. They called him mouse-brained and insane. They called for him to step down and let the deputy, Petaltalon, to take leadership. Hawkstar always refused, of course, saying ShadowClan was still waiting just around the corner to attack, and they needed him.

I didn't know much about clan politics, but I was almost certain he was correct. ShadowClan isn't one to let go of grudges. The clan cats, however, stated ShadowClans had become allies, and that Hawkstar was only thinking in the past.

And then, one day, Hawkstar ordered an attack on ShadowClan.

"They need to be stopped!" Hawkstar shouted to the clan.

"They haven't done anything!" the clan yowled back.

"We are at war with them!" Hawkstar exclaimed.

"No, we aren't!" the clan cats hissed.

Couldn't they see what he was saying? ShadowClan was only _pretending _to be an ally to them! And they shouldn't have talked back to their leader. What if Hawkstar knew something they didn't?

Every half moon, Hawkstar would cry out to his clan to attack, and every time, the clan would refuse. I wanted to yell at them, but I remembered my mentor's patience, and I kept it. Then it happened every quarter-moon, until it happened every morning at dawn.

I was fed up with the clan and ready to ask StarClan for help when it happened. I was sleeping soundly in my nest. I heard familiar screams, and so I raced out of my den. I found the entire clan fighting my brother, keeping him down as they wasted his nine lives.

I tried to stop them, but the younger warriors kept me from interfering. They kept telling me he had attacked them, that he wouldn't stop attacking them, and that it was better if they released him to StarClan. I screamed all sunhigh as they killed him life by life.

I watched my brother die nine times that day.

It took me until the next sunrise to realize what I had to do. You see, ThunderClan wasn't all that intelligent when choosing a day to defeat Hawkstar. Petaltalon was injured after being in a nasty battle with a badger, so she couldn't make the journey to the moonpool to get her nine lives.

The wounds were pretty bad. I was attempting to just let her die, but I had to look like I was healing her a bit so no one would get suspicious. However, she was strong, and even without all of the herbs she needed, she looked like she was going to heal.

So I improvised.

I gave her a poisonous root in promise her stomach would feel better. In seconds, she was dead. I pretended to be disappointed and sad as her family came in, and I acted the part of the medicine cat who just couldn't do enough.

Obviously, ThunderClan was anxious. They had no leader and no deputy. No one was really certain what to do at first. This was a rare point in history. So, of course, I gave them all the suggestion of going to the Moonpool that night to gather information from our ancestors.

No one suspected me, and they all agreed.

My plan went perfectly. The next night, I went out for a nice stroll in the direction of the Moonpool. I slept near it that night, and then I strode back to camp and told all of the Warriors StarClan had chosen Bumbletail. He was nervous tom—easy to manipulate. I whispered in his ear, and as I wanted, he chose Ivylegs as his deputy.

And now, I control ThunderClan. I wake early in the morning and speak with Bumblestar, explaining what he should do in certain situations, and he almost always follows my orders. Sometimes he has his own ideas, and I must allow them. But I control him, and thus the entire clan.

You might think I'm evil. You might think I am a horrible cat who doesn't even deserve StarClan. The fact is, I know, and I don't care. I went to Moonpool a half moon after that all happened. StarClan kept going on and on about the evil I did, and how I would never be accepted into StarClan. So I stopped drinking out of the Moonpool when I go to medicine cat meetings, and I've accepted that I will go to the Dark Forest.

I don't care anymore.

This clan had a great leader, and they killed him. So now I'm the leader, and they can't kill me, because they don't even know it is me. I will rule as my brother would have, and I will rule in his stead. After all, it is his right. So, now, through me, he will rule.

And they will get what they deserve.

* * *

><p><strong>An :: I do not own Warriors**

I don't know why I even did this. It came out so creepy! It was fun, anyways. I was trying to play around with first person, and I think it worked pretty well.

:: Prompt ::

**You are a medicine cat. Your duty is to serve your Clan, and save the lives your injured Clanmates. But instead, due to some horrible reason, you do the total opposite: kill. Make sure that in your story you illustrate what drove the medicine cat to murder.**

_Enjoy! _

_{o} The Assassins Anthem, may darkness be with you._


End file.
